


Fair

by TinyPhantomSalad (AlexanderOfAlexandria)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Everything is Beautiful, Happy Ending, Late Nights, M/M, Mentions of War, Open Ending, POV Anakin Skywalker, Singing, but a happy one, lots of description, mentions of a very tired Rex, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24261070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexanderOfAlexandria/pseuds/TinyPhantomSalad
Summary: It’s late, and Anakin is woken to singing
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 9
Kudos: 114





	Fair

**Author's Note:**

> i TOLD you there would be happier ones!! I’m also procrastinating writing my actual WIP and was feeling mushy, so now you have this  
> and yes i’m probably going to name most of these little one shots after The Amazing Devil songs- because Fair is beautiful and i have a feeling that Obi-Wan would enjoy something like that- also it’s Star Wars and i wanted to make it an ancient song because plot

Someone was singing, he realised. 

Anakin languidly opened his eyes, ignoring the stickiness as he rubbed the sleep away. His bunk was as uncomfortable as it had always been, the mattress was thin and just as hard as the durasteel beneath. It made his back sore and his bones ache, _kriff_ he missed his bed back home. His and Obi-Wan’s legion had entered hyperspace a few hours ago en route back to Coruscant after a stint in some Mid-Rim system he didn’t care to name. It had been difficult and the clones were still battle weary, Rex had been swaying on his feet by the time they had departed and was surely lying face down somewhere on the way to the bunks- that was if nobody had hurled him over their shoulder. Cody might’ve, although his other friend didn’t seem to be in a much better position. None of them were.

There had been too many close calls on this mission- too many blaster shots that had been just a _touch_ too close for comfort. He pressed a hand to his heart, as he sat up, still feeling the painful way it had hammered against his chest as they’d been surrounded, as Obi-Wan had so narrowly dodged a shot that would have been so heart wrenchingly fatal. They had escaped, barely. They had lost many in the fight but he had received tired and greatful smiles from his men. They would have to wait to mourn their losses when they got back home. 

He strained his ears again, listening out for the singing that had awoken him. It was soft, gentle; it was like the feeling of a warm wind in the middle of the night when the world is quiet and you’re alone. He relaxed into the sound, not recognising the words but lulled by the deep melody, percussive and slow, like the heavy thrum of a lightsaber- but not when used in battle- like the graceful dance of light that cast sparks and patchwork shadows dancing across the walls of a training room.

At first Anakin thought it might have been one of the clones, someone who had woken up or gotten bored or hungry- his men liked to sing. But it was different, familiar in a way he felt the voice reverberate in his very soul. A slow smile stretched across his lips. 

_Obi-Wan._

He’d never heard his former masters sing before, not like this- he’d heard drunken words flung around to a tuneless rhythm with his ‘troops after they’d finally roped him into a night out to finally let loose. He’d heard the soft lullabies he’d come up with on the spot when they were both younger and Anakin was just a child missing his mother and not the man that was corrupted by war and pain and fear. He’d heard the lively little jigs and songs that Obi-Wan had taught Ahsoka, ones that would be stuck in their heads for _weeks_ \- just for something to do on long flights from one Force forsaken planet to the next. 

But he’d never heard this. Not the way Obi-Wan’s voice dipped and called, as if you could _hear_ the sad smile in his voice, as if you could see the very person he was singing to. If the look of a lover were to ever be sung it would have been the sound passing Obi-Wan’s lips in the silence of their ship. 

For all his faults Anakin did pride himself on his curiosity- there were several things to be argued about this particular thought but he was proud of it nonetheless. He mused on the point for a moment more as he stretched his way out of bed, listening to the satisfying pop of his back and the soft pad of his feet as he followed the sound. It was louder as he reached the small galley the ship had and he peeked through the door, not wanting to disturb the man on the other side. 

The song itself was beautiful, low and calm. Anakin was right in thinking it wasn’t in basic- this was an old language, something that’s story had been told over and over through hundreds of years and thousands of voices. In the back of his mind he’d wondered how Obi-Wan had come to learn such a thing- maybe a mission? Had Qui-Gon taught him? Did he learn it after hours upon hours of pouring over those stories in the Archives? All seemed pretty in character for him. But Anakin couldn’t bring himself to follow up on the point for much longer; not as he studied the very man the beautiful voice was coming from. 

Obi-Wan had shaved his beard a few days prior to them leaving the system- much to Anakin’s own disappointment and discomfort, but now he had a dark five o’clock shadow that made him look more innocent, younger, as if he were still that padawan Anakin had met so long ago. His hair was lit by the dim warm glow from the lights in the galley, casting shadows across his face and drowning him in gold hues. Anakin sighed as inaudibly as he could, Obi-Wan propped his chin on the heel of his hand and gazed out of the viewport next to him, still singing softly. Anakin felt it in the Force, the warmth that rolled off of his former master. But Obi-Wan had always been warm, his entire being was like waking up at sunrise- the golden glow filtering through the curtains and the comfort of a warm bed; like walking next to the ocean and tensing as the water reaches you only to find out it’s the perfect temperature; like a smile across a crowded room when you finally see the person you’ve been looking for. 

_Obi-Wan,_ all that he is, was, _will be-_ is comfort and warmth and light. And in Anakin‘s heart of hearts he wanted to think that that’s what he was singing about, about _home._ Because he could be anywhere in the galaxy, but as long as Obi-Wan was by his side, Anakin was _home._

“You don’t have to stand there and catch a cold, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said suddenly, slowly turning his head and casting a soft look to where the younger man was hiding, 

“I didn’t want you to stop,” Anakin breathed, coming out of the shadows and too weary and tired to fight off the fondness that’s escaped him. The corner’s of Obi-Wan’s mouth twitched into a private smile and he gestured for Anakin to join him.

Anakin ran his tongue over his bottom lip and took the seat opposite his former master, trying to hide the blush that reached the tips of his ears, “What were you singing about?” He asked quietly, as if the answer was a secret he didn’t want anyone else to hear. He felt his heart swell as Obi-Wan’s expression changes to something unreadable- but not entirely bad, 

_“Love,”_ he replied.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me over on tumblr @/flyboy-and-fight-me


End file.
